Eternal Flame
by JanetAndrews
Summary: A short Christmas Story. Joseph and Clarisse. Christmas Eve. A flame that's bound to burn forever...
1. Chapter 1

**Eternal Flame.**

The smell was different outside this Christmas Eve. It was a fresh and new scent, the frozen air was full of oxygen and it slowly awakened life in Genovia. A few sheer white snowflakes twirled through the dark grey cloudy sky, fluttering around like butterflies and landing softly on the frozen grass and glistening treetops.

The grand, Majestic stone Castle was silent, covered in darkness, all the towers seemingly painted black on the background of the dark midnight sky. By the looks of it, all the drapes, blinds and shutters in the castle were shut, but if one looked very closely, from one window came a stream of soft, flaming and yet sparkling light.

Inside the grand suite where this window was located, a fire was burning in the fire place and in the corner was a Christmas tree that was as high as the ceiling, lit by hundreds of sparkling little lights. The ornaments were gold and dark red, the tinsel glittering gold, all reflecting the light of several burning candles that were standing on a table right next to the tree.

Right before the fireplace, on a dark green sofa, were two people. If one didn't know who these people were, and got the chance to study them, their outfits would draw his immediate attention. The woman was dressed in a long, velvet dark red dress. It was embroidered in silver and golden thread, multicoloured glass beads and spangles. The dress clung to her and outlined her body, emphasizing her perfectly round figure, pulling slightly on her hips and thighs. It fell from her upper legs as if it was a fluid, waving gently, covering her feet and dark red satin high heels. Her necklace was simple but elegant, one single diamond resting between her gracious collar bones. The skin of her chest was smooth and if one looked very closely, there were traces of miniscule sparkles on it. Her short hair was perfectly into style, her dark golden locks were brightened up with sun kissed highlights and she wore it safely tucked behind her ears. The ears that held two sparkling, diamond earrings, small but unmistakably present. Her nails were long, perfectly manicured; shiny, clear nail polish accentuated her natural beauty and one single ring was glittering on her finger.

In her left hand she loosely held a glass of red wine, the flames of the fire reflecting in its surface. Her other hand rested on her lap most of the time, calm, relaxed, but every once in a while her finger would draw shapes on the soft fabric of the sofa. The figures she drew were round, perfect circles, with no real beginning or end.

She glanced aside at the man next to her as she took a sip of her wine. He was about the same age and he stared calmly into the fire. By the looks of it, this man was in great physical shape. His back was straight, his arms firm, and the look in his eyes was vital and full of energy. He too was sipping from a glass of red wine, letting the fluid dance on his tongue before he swallowed it. His suit was unmistakably of a good quality, the shade seemingly black but in reality dark grey. His tie matched his silk shirt, both having the exact same shade of midnight blue, but his collar was loosened a bit, as if he had just tugged it to get more air. And it seemed as if he didn't realize that he was being observed.

Clarisse smiled to herself as she moved her gaze towards the fire again, earlier this evening she had known they would end up like this, together once more, bathing in the warmth of a fire. Like they had done a few nights in a row now. They sought each other's company without speaking about it, without confronting the other, without even joking about it. They just sat there, often lost in silence, yet they were talking without words.

Not until a few months ago it hadn't been like this, this warm, this pleasant, this exciting. It hadn't been like this, but it had changed after their midnight talk in late summer, when there was finally no other soul around. Looking back now, that evening had been the turning point and it felt as if there was no way back.

They had always been friends, yes, with a mutual sense of interest, perhaps, but before that night there wasn't this strange tension between them. Back then she didn't feel just as sparkly as her Christmas tree right now, with nerves that seemed to be doubled in sensitivity, and back then she hadn't even stopped to think of attempting to grow closer towards him. But she had. Intentionally so. And she knew she had hit target, she sensed it, it was sizzling in the air like a threatening thunderstorm.

Truth was, she had neglected her feminine side for too long. And to say that she didn't enjoy his reactions to her when she spoke directly to him, touching her hair doing so, was a lie. She would always deny it, even under torture, but she knew he was watching her when she pulled her hands through her hair, when she touched her lips with just one finger, yes also when she deliberately caressed the skin of her chest. She felt his gazed burning upon her skin as she walked in front of him, it even made her walk differently, her hips swaying just that little bit more and her lips curving in a careful knowing smile. He saw it, all of it, of that she was sure, he watched her every move with eyes that seemed to caress her. It was thrilling beyond belief, to feel the admiration of a man once again, and it was, to say the least, addictive. And, as any addiction, she needed more and more from this thrill to continue to feel satisfied. She needed more…

"…Fire," she said softly.

He glanced aside. "Excuse me?"

She coughed, she couldn't believe she had spoken out loud. "Fire…I mean, fire has always fascinated me. It's so powerful at times. Look at it Joseph, look…"

He glanced at the fire, quickly, then back at her. "Yes, powerful. Beautiful too."

She blinked slowly, the flames reflected in her eyes and he inhaled deeply, breathing in her sweet scent. She smelled differently this evening, it was a new perfume she was wearing. Usually she would wear light scents, something with flowers and citrus fruit, reminding him of a rainy morning in springtime. But this scent he smelled right now was more oriental, spicy, all right darker if he had to name it something. It was an enticing scent, yet subtle, as if it was inviting him to lean in closer to fully appreciate it.

"I mean…" she said as she inhaled deeply, shifting a little so her shoulder brushed his. Her scent became suddenly stronger, enveloping him. "…The individual flames, how they play so dangerously together." Her voice was soft, dreamy. "One minute they're connected as one bright light, co-mingled, burning brightly and with great heat, crackling, throwing off sparks and embers… and then moving away to burn by themselves for a while."

He followed her gaze towards the flames, looking right into it, drifting along with the soft tone of her voice. Suddenly he saw what she was describing, he'd never looked at fire like this. Everything miraculously revealed itself when he was with her, she brought that out in him, the realization of things that seemed meaningless until then.

Then she became quiet and rested her head against the back of the sofa, leaning a little so her hair almost tickled against his head. Almost. He felt her though, regarding the little distance that was still between them. He even felt the warmth of her body on his skin, despite the staggering heat from the fire.

He hesitated to speak but then decided to do so. "Almost as if it's just too hot," he said, moving his eyes towards the Christmas tree. Avoiding the source of heat. "Almost frighteningly so. The individual flames are just too hot and too dangerous to be able to get too close." He lowered his hand so it came to rest on the sofa, right next to hers. Instantly she stopped drawing shapes and she looked down on their hands, not quite touching but reaching out.

Silence fell and she exhaled slowly through her mouth, feeling how her body was starting to tingle all over. Her stomach was fluttery, her head dizzy as if she were in freefall. She placed her glass on the table next to her.

"And yet, single flames don't really make a fire - they need each other to create warmth - to make anything burn," she whispered, turning her face towards him. Although he didn't look at her she could see it in his face, the reaction to her carefully picked words. He was trying to resist her, a realization that had always amused her, but suddenly out of nowhere it tickled her. She too could play this game, only better, so help her God…

Oh, she could think of countless reasons to ask him to leave right now. Maybe because of the wine, but probably because the electricity that sparkled in the air, she slowly leaned down towards him to take off one of her satin shoes. Her smile was relaxed as she rubbed her toes, stretching out her leg in front of her. The other shoe followed suit, falling to the floor.

He glanced at her from aside as she bent down, staring at the view that was suddenly exposed to him. She was perfectly round, creamy, luscious all over. Then he moved his gaze towards the floor, seeing her dark red high heels on the soft carpet. He didn't comment on her change of position, his body, along with his voice, seemed to be frozen.

Then, slowly, she shifted in her seat so she could tuck her legs underneath her, her upper body turned in his direction, her elbow resting on the back of the couch, her face leaning on her hand. She sat there for a while, watching him with a small smile, only seeing him, his posture, his head, his hands, his suit.

He swallowed, clearing his throat. His heart started pounding in his chest by the realization. Clarisse, Queen of Genovia, his employer, was flirting with him. And he should walk away right now.

She smiled, bringing her hand to her mouth, slowly biting the nail of her index finger. When she inhaled to speak he did look at her. She smiled at him with that bright, innocent smile. That rapturous smile, combined with her low voice made it almost impossible for him to breathe. "It's almost like two lovers who are afraid of being burned by the heat between them to do anything to stoke the fire -- and yet somehow it never seems to burn itself out. The embers are always there... "

He could only nod. His mouth was dry, annoyingly so, so he brought his glass up to his mouth again, finding out that it was empty. He never even realized he had finished his beverage.

"More wine Joseph?" she asked, extending her hand to accept his glass. Her finger brushed his hand as she took it away from him.

"No," he said, his voice hoarse. "No, I always drink only one glass."

"I noticed that," she said, "why is that?"

He coughed. "One is enough."

She shook her head in an amused way. She leaned backwards to grab the bottle of wine that was standing next to the couch on the side table. "I think you're afraid to lose control," she said as she filled his glass. She returned to the same position, offering him the wine with a glitter in her eye that he'd never seen before. She was breathtaking.

"There's a good reason for it," he said, his voice low. He shook his head slightly as he accepted the crystal glass. "It's my job to…"

She leaned backwards again to pick up her own beverage, to return to her position right away. "It's Christmas Eve Joseph, you're not working. Cheers." She raised her glass at him and took a sip.

He chuckled softly. "But I…"

"You don't give into temptation very easily, do you Joseph?" she then asked, lowering her glass. He was about to comment without knowing how when she continued. "Don't you ever get tired of always doing the right thing?"

"Tired of it?" He smiled. "Maybe I just realize that things can happen to people when they're tempted. Things that could be...dangerous. Things that can't be taken back."

"Touché," she nodded. "But to feel and to act are two different things."

He took a sip, ignoring her satisfied smile. "True."

Silence fell and he took a few sips, tasting how the wine melted on his tongue. It was a spicy wine, powerful, sweet but not too sweet. As always, when it came to Clarisse's taste for the good things in life, it was perfect. He coughed when he suddenly felt her index finger stroking his hand. The touch was as light as a feather but he felt it shooting through his entire body.

"What's your weak spot Joseph?" she whispered, removing her finger. "I'm trying to figure it out, you always seem so strong and unbreakable."

He shifted in his seat, feeling how his heart started beating in his throat now. Then he looked aside, staring straight in the dark blue sparkling eyes of the woman he had desired for so many years. "You're a tease, you know that?"

_TBC...soon..._


	2. Chapter 2

A tease, she tasted the word. If someone had told her years and years ago that a man would call her a tease at this age, she would have laughed in his face. But now, with Joseph being the man to confront her, somewhere, deep down, something was tickling inside her. It made her breathe just a little deeper. "Mmm…" she hummed as she took another sip.

"I think you know exactly where my weak spot lies."

She didn't respond, just let the sweet taste of the wine dance through her mouth. She licked her lips as she swallowed the warming fluid.

"However," he then said, his voice dangerously low. "There are times when even I fall for temptation. When even I am not able to think rationally."

"Oh?" she smiled, looking at him above the rim of her glass. She felt strangely relaxed, in control of the situation, yet there was also an enticing feeling in her lower stomach that made her act this way. He kept looking at her with eyes that were darker like she'd ever seen it. They narrowed as she held on to his gaze.

"Hasn't your mother warned you?"

"For what?" she asked with big innocent eyes. Her smile however was amused.

He shifted in his seat so his body came to face her completely. Slowly, he reached out to take one of her hands in his, bringing it carefully to his lips. "That when you come too close to a fire, you can get burned."

His lips stroked her skin with care, a touch that almost made her moan softly. She blinked, feeling how a shiver shot through her lower body. His cologne reached her nose and she inhaled it deeply. She smelled sandalwood, musk, spices…she closed her eyes as she realized that she smelled his natural scent too. As she leaned her head backwards just a little, her lips slightly parted, she heard his sharp intake of breath. She opened her eyes to look at him and he shook his head slightly, releasing her hand instantly.

"Clarisse, tell me to go."

"More wine Joseph?" she again asked, her voice soft and her eyes twinkling.

He shook his head with eyes that were pleading, his voice trembling. "Please tell me to go."

She frowned as she let her eyes slide over his face, then further downwards. "Your tie is all loose. Let me fix it for you…"

He closed his eyes in despair as she reached out to take his tie in both her hands. He was fighting with all his strength to keep himself in check. The softness of her upper body was close, too close, brushing his chest.

She let the smooth material of his tie run through her fingers before she slid them upwards. Her hands were a little shaky as she tightened his tie, feeling his breath stirring her hair. She looked up when she was about to place her hand around the knot, against the little inch of bare skin in his collar. "This is better."

His eyes were slightly dazed as he looked at her, his gaze moving across her face. Quickly he went from her eyes, her nose, her burning cheeks to her mouth, sliding back up to meet her gaze again. Then her hand made contact with his warm skin and before she knew it, with one quick movement, he held both her wrists in one hand, pressing her hands tightly to his chest. She couldn't hold back a small gasp. His heart was beating fast beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" he whispered. Her face was close, so close and so enticing that it took his breath away. Her mouth was slightly opened, her eyes pierced into his.

"I was a reckless child, I never listened to my mother" she said, licking her dry lips.

Even that quick movement aroused him and he released her wrists so her hands came to rest against his chest. Slowly, deliberately, she slid them to his shoulders. His muscles contracted at the touch. His eyes traced her curving, feminine figure with maddening hunger. Everything about her drenched him with desire, and the feelings that she awakened both scared and excited him. He had yet to touch her warm, silkened skin, and she had already completed the task of seducing and rendering him helpless.

"Clarisse…" he panted a little, staring openly at her mouth now. "We're playing with fire." Slowly, he lowered his head so his lips could find the soft skin of her neck. The second he tasted her, it was so heady and so perfect he almost fainted. It was just as he had imagined her to taste, but stronger, just like reality was always better than imagination.

"Oh…" She closed her eyes at the contact, her stomach filling with endless numbers of butterflies. Her breath deepened and her pulse quickened as he slowly kissed the tender skin of her neck, then slowly dipped his tongue into the soft place between her collar bones. She shivered when his hands found each other on the small of her back, going down to slide over her round hips, pulling her closer towards him.

He caught her appreciative moan as he moved his lips to her ear, nibbling her earlobe, kissing the soft skin behind it carefully. His want for her made another jump, longing to kiss those beautiful lips more and more by the second. And yet he postponed that moment deliberately, knowing that kissing her oh so seductive mouth would change something forever.

Her hands slipped along his shoulders to the back of his neck, tilting her head backwards as his kisses became more urgent. Heat gathered in all parts of her, burning away her doubts, liquefying her bones and her resolve.

"Joseph…" she moaned softly, her eyes closed. A maddening need to feel him upon her lips was slowly taking her in its grasp. Her hands slid forward again, reaching out to cup both his cheeks. He didn't make it easy for her, resisting slightly at her unspoken wish. "I want…I need…"

"Fire?" he murmured, slowly placing kisses in her neck again, to go upwards now, tracing her gracious neckline with his tongue.

She shivered again. "Fire," she said breathlessly, parting her lips slightly when his mouth had finally reached hers. They touched but had yet to claim each other. She whispered against his trembling lips, repeating the word two, three times.

His heart was pounding so loud in his chest that he was convinced that she could hear it.

"You are my weak spot…" he said softly before he leaned in just that little more to cover her mouth completely.

And fire he gave her. Her entire being was burning with desire, unable to think or doubt. Everything about him was so new and yet she recognized so much. His warm mouth, his skilful lips, the way he circled her waist with both hands – she responded to it all. He tasted of wine, fire, and danger, even more danger than she had anticipated. But danger seemed to appeal to her. She simple wasn't able to withdraw, she hadn't felt this way in so long, as if there were nothing in the world more important than this moment. His darkly erotic scent enveloped her, making her weaker until she was clinging to him.

He tilted his head and leaned down to kiss her gently once more, teasing her lips and sweeping his tongue inside her mouth lightly, without hurry. He wanted this moment to last. He wanted to show her that this was more than just one night. This was forever, because he never did anything halfway.

She smiled softly into his kiss as he groaned softly, pulling her as close as he could get her. And finally, with no further warning, she was pushing his jacket down his arms, the piece of clothing hitting the floor with no sound. She barely noticed when her own zipper fell away on her back, her eyes full of only him, her hands on his shoulders as she pressed against him, already reaching down to divest him of his pants.

Inside the fireplace, with a loud rushing sound, a brick of wood tipped over and the existing flames approached the new log gently.

He smiled. So did she. Then, as their lips found each other again, suddenly the flames ignited to burn a hot, steady flame.

Merry Christmas.

_Thank you for all your lovely comments, you make my efforts worth it. Until next time, have a wonderful romantic Christmas everyone. Love, Janet xxx_


End file.
